


Good Enough

by harmonymotel



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (in reference to Peter), Bullying, College, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony's going soft and he loves it, but we love him anyway, so does tony, use of the phrase "crackhead chipmunk"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonymotel/pseuds/harmonymotel
Summary: Peter gets into MIT. You'd think he'd be happier about it.This is a spoiler-free fic! You may safely read :)





	Good Enough

Usually, time was a bit of an enigma for Tony Stark; he didn’t keep any actual clocks in his lab and the slightly tinted windows were hardly any help telling him what time of day (or night) it was. Pepper had gotten onto him more than a few times for it.

But on this particular day he was beginning to feel an increasingly apparent absence of the Spiderling variety -- it seemed like by now Peter Parker would be bounding in from a day at school chattering away with all the excitement of a crackhead chipmunk (Rhodey’s words, not Tony’s). He glanced to the station Peter had colonized with his equipment since his visits became more frequent and frowned at its emptiness. “Hey, FRI?” he said, setting down his wrench and grabbing a towel to wipe his oily hands. “What time is it?”

“It’s 4:45 PM, Boss.”

“Four forty-five? Where’s the kid?”

“Boss?”

He sighed, “Peter. Peter Parker. He got off school, like, two hours ago.”

“Mr. Parker is not currently in the building.”

“Well, then where the hell is he?” Tony grumbled, though slightly surprised with himself that he felt so off without the kid there to talk his ear off. Did this mean he was going soft? Jesus Christ.

“See if he’s on patrol.”

“Peter’s suit is not online.”

“Well, call him.”

“Calling Peter Parker.”

Tony walked over to Peter’s station and looked at the webshooters lying on the table, one of them cracked open and spilling with wires, the other skewered through with a Phillip’s head like a barbeque sausage. Stacks of equations rested beside them, all longhand and written in pencil despite the literal army of technology Tony had at his fingertips. “Sadist,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

“Boss?” said FRIDAY, pulling his thoughts away from the messy lab station.

“Yeah, FRI.”

“There’s no answer from Peter.”

“Try again,” he sighed. If that little shithead had dropped his phone swinging across buildings again he was about to be in a world of hurt.

A few more moments passed, then, “Still no answer, Boss.”

“He better hope for his sake that he didn’t --”

“Boss, Peter Parker just entered through the lobby.” Tony was not going to acknowledge the relief that went through him at hearing that -- not now, not ever.

“Well it’s about damn time. He look okay?”

There was a moment of hesitation from FRIDAY, and he began to feel the nerves piling up again. “FRI?”

“He doesn’t appear to be injured, Boss.”

“But…?”

“But he looks upset.”

And the relief was gone again as soon as it came, replaced with wariness. “Ah, shit. Tell him to come on up.”

“Acknowledged.”

Tony went over to a sink to wash his hands properly, wondering what could have the kid feeling down. If it was that Flash character again, Tony wasn’t about to let it go this time. He’d march right up to Midtown and tell that kid _exactly_ what he thought of him. Maybe even wear the suit, make the little dickwad crap himself. That would be so _rich_. Tony smirked thinking about it.

It wasn’t long before the doors to the lab slid open and Peter walked in, backpack still slung over his shoulder, an opened envelope in his hand. Not to mention the dejected look on his face.

Yeah, Thompson was going down.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony called, trying for casual.

Peter barely even acknowledged him, setting his backpack down at his station and sitting down in front of his calculations, kicked puppy written into every feature. _Damn_. Tony walked over to him, a little more careful this time. “Pete,” he said softly. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter murmured, hardly more than a whisper. Well, at least he said _something_.

“Kid. Look at me.”

Finally, Peter lifted his eyes to meet Tony’s, and his heart sunk to see them swimming with tears. Oh boy. He definitely didn’t know the protocol here. All he knew was that somebody made his kid cry and that they were not going to get away with it. “Hey now, hey, c’mon, what’s wrong? You gotta tell me, buddy, or I go straight to May. You want me to go to May? FRIDAY, get me May on the line--”

Peter’s eyes had begun widening about halfway through his threat (subsequently forcing the tears to roll down his cheeks, somehow making him look sadder) and he shook his head vehemently, “No no no, please don’t call May, Mr. Stark, please, it’s not even -- it’s not -- it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be -- I shou --” he wiped at his eyes fiercely, sniffling. “Please don’t call M-May.”

“Just kidding, FRI,” Tony said, sinking to his knees to kneel in front of Peter. “Talk to me, kid.”

Peter hesitated, staring him down warily as if Tony would put the call through anyway, or even laugh at him. _“Peter,”_ Tony said, lowly, leaving no room for argument. The kid sighed shakily and thrust the envelope he had when he came in toward Tony, who took it with a bit of confusion. The kid didn’t look like he wanted to explain, so Tony opened it up, pulling out the paper inside. He was surprised to see _MIT Office of Admissions_ typed at the top. His eyes fell downward toward the body of the letter, reading the first few lines; _Dear Mr. Parker, on behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my genuine pleasure to offer you admission to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Class of…_

Tony looked back up at Peter with a grin on his face, momentarily forgetting that the kid was upset. “Holy shit, kiddo!”

Not that Tony was shocked -- at all -- that Peter got into MIT; the kid was a genius, they’d have been out of their minds with stupidity not to accept him. Before he could really register the emotions he was feeling he was pulling Peter into a hug, acceptance letter falling to the floor -- “Kid, this is so great, this is -- I mean, I’m not surprised, of course they loved you, but -- Jesus, have you told May? She’ll be over the moon, Peter, you’ve gotta call her right now -- or, I mean, I guess tell her in person, that would be better, but this is great, kid, this is so great, so why….” he pulled back, and to his horror, Peter looked even more miserable than he did before. “So why on earth are you crying, buddy?”

Peter looked at the letter on the floor and then down at his knees, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do that, Mr. Stark.”

Okay, now Tony was _really_ confused. What did he miss? “Do what, Peter?”

The kid met his eyes again with a little frustration, his hands anxiously twisting in his lap. “MIT.”

“Kiddo, I don’t know what you mea--” Suddenly, he recalled a conversation they had when Peter first started Spider-ing, how Tony had pull at a lot of colleges and Peter … oh. _Oh._ Peter thought he -- “You think I pulled strings to get you into this school,” he said, and even as it came out of his mouth he was a little offended Peter actually thought he would do that without his consent. Because if the kid had asked he _totally_ would have, but he never did, and Tony left well enough alone. He knew Peter didn’t actually need his help.

“Everybody else does,” Peter said sadly, and Tony was having about enough of _that_ shit.

“Everybody else who? Ned? MJ?”

“No, but --”

“Trash Thompson told you that, huh? I knew it. Who else? I want names, kid, I want a list. Who said that?”

“Flash always says that stuff,” Peter huffed, “but it wasn’t just him, it was … it was everybody. And I don’t -- I mean, Mr. Stark, how _else_ would I have gotten in?”

Tony froze. It was one thing for other kids to pick on Peter, but he wasn’t about to let the kid put himself down. Especially when he was _wrong_.

_“How else would you have gotten in?”_ Tony repeated, his voice dangerous. Peter winced and opened his mouth to say something else, but Tony held up his hand in a clear signal to shut the hell up. “Peter, _are you shitting me?”_

“Mr. Stark --”

“FRIDAY, pull up Peter’s final semester grades for the last four years of school. Anything below an A?”

FRIDAY was silent a moment, finding the database, then said, “No, Boss.”

“Anything below a ninety-five?”

“No, Boss.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Now get me his SAT and ACT scores. What are those?”

“Peter has an SAT score of 1550 and a perfect ACT score of 36.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY. That’s it for now.”

“But Mr. Stark --”

“Oh, no, don’t you ‘Mr. Stark,’ me, kid. First of all, I’m not a hundred years old, my name is Tony. Second of all, I didn’t do _anything_ to your application or make any calls. Peter, I didn’t even know you were applying to this school.”

That got the kid’s attention -- he sat up and looked at Tony in disbelief. “Wait -- what? Really?”

Tony would definitely be having a talk with Peter’s therapist. This inferiority complex had to go.

He put his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Yes. Really. And you know what? I’m getting real sick of you thinking you aren’t good enough.”

“Tony --”

_Finally, he had a name._ But he wasn’t anywhere near finished, so he interrupted again; “Peter, do you have any idea how smart you are? Any idea? Don’t answer that, because you clearly don’t. Look at me. You are smart. _Wicked smart._ Kid, sometimes even _I_   have trouble keeping up with you in the lab! Me! Iron Man! Genius is kind of my thing, Pete, that’s mad impressive. They saw that, buddy. They saw that without me pulling any strings or making any phone calls.”

“But --”

“Hey, woah, not done. No talking while I’m talking. It isn’t polite.”

Peter gave him a look (Tony Stark chastising somebody else about being impolite was ironic, to say the least).

“They would be idiots not to accept you, kid,” Tony went on, ignoring him. “Because not only are you following in my Boy Genius footsteps, you’ve got something most of those applicants didn’t think they’d need. Something that makes you better than all of them, even better than me. You know what that is?”

The kid shook his head, finally listening. And goddammit Tony was getting choked up.

“You’ve got a good heart, kid,” he said, pressing a finger to Peter’s chest. “You make everyone around you feel important. Hell, you’ve gotten me saying all types of mushy crap on the regular, and if that isn’t talent I don’t know what is.”

Peter gave a watery laugh and Tony smiled at him. God, he loved this kid.

“Nobody got you into that school but you, Pete. Nobody pulled admission’s arm, because nobody had to. They didn’t need my input to know how special you are.”

Who knew _the_ Tony Stark had a soft spot for geeky Spider-kids. Not him, that’s for sure. The tears in Peter’s eyes came down again and Tony tugged him back into his arms, knowing full well Pepper would have an absolute field day with this were she to walk in. “You did that all by yourself, bud,” he said into the kid’s shoulder. “And I am so, _so_ proud of you.”

That was something he had rarely, if ever, heard from his own father, and he would be damned if he let Peter go so much as a day without knowing it. He hugged his kid a little tighter. Yeah, alright, he was definitely going soft. But it really wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“And listen, _Spider Man_? That would have been the ultimate application booster, am I right?”

That was pretty effective in lightening the mood; Peter laughed into his chest and he chuckled right along with him. After a few minutes he let Peter untangle himself from the embrace, hoping his words managed to get through that kid’s thick skull. He _was_ proud.

“Man, Cambridge,” Peter mumbled, picking the acceptance letter back up. “Massachusetts is kinda far.”

“Don’t even think about it, kiddo. I’ll move May up there with you the second you decide you wanna go.”

Peter smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was staring at Tony like… and _there_ was the next a-ha moment that warmed Tony’s heart to a melty puddle on the floor. “And of course I’ll also be building another facility in Cambridge so you’ll have plenty of access to your nerdy Spider tech.”

But he knew it wasn’t the lab Peter was going to miss, and the thought had his eyes burning again. God, when did he get this emotional?

He gave it a few moments, mostly to be sure he was dry-eyed, before clapping Peter on the shoulder and picking his backpack off the lab station to give to him. “Now, get out of here. You’ve got a hot aunt to tell.”

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony laughed as Peter stood and gathered his things -- “Oops, slip of the tongue. Don’t tell Aunt Hottie. _Dammit!”_

The kid groaned and pulled his backpack over his shoulder again, but paused before he bounded off to Queens to tell May the news. He took a deep breath, glancing down at the letter again. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

Tony shook his head. “No need, kid. Go tell May she’s moving to Massachusetts.”

Peter gave him a bright grin and rushed up to hug him tightly again -- and no, Tony was not about to get watery eyed, under no circumstance -- before practically running out of the lab, even thanking FRIDAY on his way out.

“And it’s _TONY!”_ Tony yelled after him as the doors slid closed. He sighed fondly to himself once he was alone again, wondering how he had ever gotten caught up in all this. In Peter.

“FRIDAY,” he called, moving back over to his own lab station. “Get me some info on Cambridge real estate.”

“Of course,” the AI replied. “And Boss?”

“Yeah, baby girl.”

“Congratulations.”

Tony couldn’t help his smile. “Thanks, FRI.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, Tony was a little (and by a little I mean a lot) OOC but hey, I needed fluff and that's exactly what I wrote. With some angst. Because I can never let people just be happy.


End file.
